


Prayer of the victorious

by a_certain_kind_of_dread



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25132732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_certain_kind_of_dread/pseuds/a_certain_kind_of_dread
Summary: A short moment were Ares is faced with the consequences of his power
Kudos: 10





	Prayer of the victorious

**Author's Note:**

> Ares - god of war, represents the physical, violent and untamed aspect of war  
> Deimos - the personification of dread and terror   
> Thanatos - the god of death  
> Makaria - the goddess of peaceful death  
> Melinoe - the goddess of nightmares

Pale and covered in blood a young child was staring at her mothers corpse. The young woman had her eyes wide open and throat slit. Her neck was unnaturally bent back, eyes looking almost behind her, and a big puddle of scarlet was between the mother and her child. The small girl had tears flow down her dirty face, creating a few clean tracks on her otherwise dirty cheeks. Her face was blank, eyes wide with horror, and she was shaking with her whole being. Next to her, Deimos was talking with a sweet and gentle voice, his words a sickening contrast to his tone.

„She’s gone little one, isn’t she? And in such an awful matter. She must have thought about you in her last moments? Fearing you were dead? Or maybe she wished it, so that you don’t see her. Poor woman, so young and beautiful, tainted by violence.“

Ares watched from afar, gaze heavy and mouth dry. The girl was in front of the ruins of a burned home, in the back of the village flames still burning weakly. This was not a home anymore, but a battlefield filled with the dead. Corpses were scattered around, each a worse sight than the last. Stabbed, crushed, strangled, each death as if a competition for how cruel it could be. The god of war straightened his back, feeling a small spark of pride. His people, the Spartans, had won. Of course they would, they prayed upon none other than Ares, and he would of course answer their prayers. 

He heard a loud sob, and saw Deimos looking slightly amused at the now weeping child. She shook her head quickly, covering her ears and screaming. Ares looked angrily at Deimos and shook his head slowly no. Deimos saw it, but smirked, and whispered something more to the child. The otherwise silent deathfield was filled with screams of despair and horror.

„Enough. You have done your deed.“

Deimos stood up, and walked away, searching for the next unfortunate soul still alive. Ares couldn’t look away from the small, broken child desperately clinging to her mothers corpse. He knew the Spartans were praying, thanking him, yet he could not answer them. The brown earth was covered in red, the enemies red, but he did not find the will to enjoy the sight. He heard someone step behind him, and turned around to see Thanatos. The god of death looked grim, eyes sunken and soul heavy. Ares knew how much he hated this. He hated when Ares answered prayers, the only thing he hated more than that was the prayers themselves. Thanatos looked at the child, face darkening and teeth grinding in anger. Ares quickly looked away.

„Can Makaria come for her?“

Thanatos looked heartlessly at Ares, his gaze so murderous latter felt like his blood might join that of the enemy on the ground.

„She does not come to the fields of death you create.“ His voice was cold, poisinous almost, and Ares couldn’t help but scoff. Thanatos stepped closer. „Peace does not visit the place of war.“ His voice was a silent growl, yet Ares could hear remorse in it.

„Then you go take her.“

Thanatos shook his head, and looked at the child. She was curled up now, face burried in her knees, shaking less. It made Ares feel more worried. The child seemed tired, a loss of strength which is so huge she might never gain it back again.

„She is not close to death.“

„But, I saw her, she’s... covered in blood.“

„It’s not her blood.“

Ares felt his eyes widen barely, but enough for Thanatos to notice. The god of death walked past Ares, and started visiting every unfortunate soul on this field. To Ares they seemed luckier than that little girl alive. He looked at her again, and saw how Melinoe tenderly carressed the childs hair, sitting next to her with her silky black dress spread across the dirt. Ares turned around, and left to answer his worshipers‘ prayer.


End file.
